


The Road To Love

by Basmathgirl



Category: Learners, Mrs Ratcliffe's Revolution
Genre: BBC, Crossover, F/M, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it morally wrong for a Christian driving instructor to ogle the woman of his dreams? Destiny was about to say otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamerbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these BBC characters and am merely playing with them for non-profit results.  
>  **A/N:** this was written especially for [dreamerbee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee) to wish her a very Happy Birthday!!!  
>  **A/N2:** I couldn’t find my Mrs Ratcliffe DVD in order to verify some things in time (I’m hoping it’s only mislaid), so I apologise if I’ve got anything wrong.  
>  **Prompt:**
> 
>   
>   
>  by [alexdystopia](http://alexsdystopia.tumblr.com/post/29866706336/mrs-ratcliffes-revolution-learners-crossover)  
> 

A silent prayer was sent Heavenwards that today would be the day something happened, something that would ease his aching heart.

It was only as they turned in Aldridge Road that he spotted her: the woman of his dreams. Chris frantically turned in his car seat to try and get another glimpse of her but Gloria to his side suddenly shrieked and then despondently asked, “Did I hit something? Is it bad?”

“No, Gloria,” he calmly answered. “I was admiring a…” It would not do for him to admit he had been, in all essence, ogling a woman he had just spotted on the pavement. “A tree. I am thinking of buying someone a tree, and that one looked pretty.”

“Where?” Gloria wondered as she peered into the rear view mirror. “What colour was it?”

“It had coppery tones,” Chris reluctantly admitted.

“Sounds a like a type of maple tree to me,” Gloria replied “My uncle had one of them growing wild…” and she was off on a longwinded anecdote that made Chris chuckle in amusement.

At the end of her driving lesson, Chris was able to say, “You’ve made a great deal of improvement, Gloria. At this rate you’ll be able to take your test very soon.”

“Thank you!” Gloria practically glowed as she sat in the driver’s seat. “Can I ask you something before I go?”

Chris steeled himself to try and answer her question honestly. “Go ahead.”

“When you were turning around to look at that tree you were going on about, were you really looking at that woman in the green dress?” she asked.

Oh dear! Had he not sounded convincing enough? “I…”

“Thought so,” Gloria quietly crowed to herself. “I often see that woman in the library.”

“You do?” he stammered in surprise. “What day… when do you tend to see her?”

“Thursday mornings, although I have seen her there at Wednesday teatime with a little girl. Why? Are you thinking of asking her out?” Gloria teased.

“Oh no! I would never…No!” Chris spluttered.

“Well, if you change your mind, it’s the library in Dorset Road, and I get there about half ten,” Gloria added as she climbed out of the car. “See you next week, Chris”

“Goodbye! Don’t forget your lesson will be at two o’clock instead of four!” he called out as he too got out of the car, to swap seats, and watched her walk away, deep in thought.

He could arrange a little library visit one Thursday morning; just as an experiment, just to see. As another experiment, he could drive back down towards Aldridge Road to see if she was still walking along; it wouldn’t be too far out of his way as he drove towards his next driving lesson. He had some time to kill and intended to buy a newspaper.

Having made the decision, he executed a U turn and headed back towards Aldridge Road, just to cruise up and down for a minute or so.

She wasn’t where he had last seen her, so he risked turning into Blapton Close to see if she had gone down there. As luck would have it, she had! Slowing the car down to a stop, he wondered how he could follow her or, if the fates would allow it, to speak to her. An elderly woman appeared from a hedged gateway and greeted his ginger beauty.

Oops! He wasn’t allowed to think of her as his, not in reality, but he was building a new extension to his previous fantasy right at that second. This wasn’t the first time he had spotted her walking along but he was determined now to seek more because this was beginning to feel like destiny.

The first time he had seen her she was wearing a purple dress that flattered her curvaceous figure and instantly caught his attention as she had stepped out of a shop in the High Street. The next time had been as she walked through the car park at the back of the post office. After that he had tried to keep an eye out for her wherever he went. It wasn’t much of a hobby, but it filled in the gaps at times.

And now she was stood only ten feet away from him, chatting to an old lady, looking so relaxed and beautiful in the afternoon sun. Oh how he wished he could just talk to her; or even know her name. That would be an improvement. With that in mind, he tried to surreptitiously wind his side window down to eavesdrop on their conversation.

As soon as the window began its downward movement her eyes flashed to him, and he guiltily smiled back. The old woman briefly scowled at him, and then bid farewell to her co-chatter.

“Bye Grace! Mind how you go,” his vision of beauty called out, and he would have sworn his heart skipped a beat.

In his eyes she was perfect! Not only was she stunning but she was caring. Now was his opportunity, his chance to speak to her and make contact, any contact. What could he ask her?

“Er… hello! Excuse me, but…”

No sooner had her head whipped round in astonishment to regard him properly when the shopping bag she was holding suddenly plunged to the pavement and she was left holding nothing but its handles.

“My eggs!” she squealed in fright, and Chris was opening the car door and out of it, standing on the pavement by her side in a shot.

“I’m so sorry,” he instantly apologised, bending down to retrieve her shopping items as they tried to roll away. A tin of baked beans was particularly determined to make a break for it, and he had to stop it with his foot in the end.

She found herself hiding her amusement at his fevered antics to grab hold of as many items as possible. “You do look as though you are having problems there,” she sympathised.

“Where shall I put them?” he asked.

“The bag… Oh!” she exclaimed when she held her shopping bag up. “I won’t be able to use this again.”

“Did you lose many eggs?” he wondered, looking down at the yellow mess on the tarmac.

“Only two; it could have been a lot worse,” she sadly answered.

“I could help you carry all this home if you like? I’ve got the car,” he offered.

“Oh no! I couldn’t expect that of you, a complete stranger, even if I have seen your learner car around here quite often,” she declined.

“You have?” Chris suddenly felt very chuffed she had noticed him, and smiled goofily. “It wouldn’t take me a minute to help.”

She blushed. “That is very kind of you, but I only live over there.” She pointed towards a modest looking house across the way. “Why don’t we take these things over together?”

“Yes, of course,” he tried not to splutter; but internally he was squeeing. He was going to find out where she lived, and he might be going in her house! It took all his strength to control his breathing in that second.

With an encouraging smile, she turned and headed away from him, so he quickly followed. Entering through a gateway in a privet hedge, they made their way up a crazy paved pathway and into the house. “Follow me. You can dump all those things down in the kitchen on the table,” she shyly ordered.

The house was equally modest inside, and nicely laid out. Trying not to show the strain carrying the bits and pieces had put on him, he carefully piled them onto the kitchen table.

“Are you okay?” she asked him with a great deal of concern. “I do hope you haven’t hurt yourself on my behalf.”

“No,” he sought to assure her. “It’s my asthma playing up.”

She gently took hold of his arm. “Please sit down. I’d never forgive myself if I made you ill.”

Summoning up a weak smile, he tried to reassure her by saying, “I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“No, I’m really worried. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us a cup of tea?” she offered.

“Well…” How could he resist when this was exactly what he had wanted? “Just a quick cup then, thank you.”

“Do you take sugar?”

“Two, please,” he answered as she guided him onto an armchair in the living room, and left him alone for some seconds before suddenly reappearing.

“I’ve put the kettle on,” she informed him, and then sort of hovered there in the doorway.

“Oh! I should introduce myself properly,” he realised. “I’m Christopher McKenzie but everyone just calls me Chris.” He struck out his hand and waited for her to place her soft hand within his.

“I’m,” she started to say, and then found herself blushing. “I’m Dorothy Ratcliffe,” she admitted, and gave a small nervous laugh. “I’m not used to saying my name.”

“Hello Dorothy,” he said in encouragement. “It’s nice to meet you.” He mentally added the word ‘finally’ to the end of that sentence. “You have a lovely home.”

It was only then that he spotted the wedding ring on her finger. Why hadn’t he noticed it beforehand? Only an idiot would have followed a married woman. It was a really stupid manoeuvre on his part, sitting there in the home of another man.

“I erm…” He gulped, trying to keep down the bile that had risen in his mouth. “I hope your husband won’t be offended by my being here.”

“Why would he be?” Dorothy reasoned. “You helped me out and I’m thanking you by offering tea. It isn’t as though I’ve rewarded you with a kiss, is it?”

“A kiss!” he echoed. Chris had to honest and admit to himself that he’d like that very much.

She blushed again. “Tea; I’ll go and deal with that tea. I won’t be a moment,” she blustered and then hurried out.

Fortunately the kettle had boiled, and she stood stirring the tea leaves in the tea pot to hurry them on their way to a decent cup of tea. Then she loaded up a tray with the tea pot, a jug of milk, two cups with saucers, and a plate of biscuits.

“Sorry about the wait,” she immediately apologised.

“There’s need to worry on my behalf. Here, let me help you,” he insisted and placed his hands on the handles of the tray, inadvertently covering hers.

“Yes, well, thank you,” she stammered, and released her hold to let him put the tea tray down in front of them on the coffee table.

Chris noticed she had forgotten the sugar, but he was too polite and shy to point it out, so he sweetened his tea by picking up one of the offered biscuits to nibble on.

Dorothy knew she should have been making conversation with him instead of sitting gawping at him like a lovesick cow, so she cleared her throat and tried a topic out. “Do you… Have you been living in England very long?”

“Not very,” he answered around a mouthful of biscuit. “It got a bit… you know… awkward back home in Glasgow, so I thought I’d come down and give London a go.”

“Oh,” she said with understanding and feeling. ‘Awkward’ could be particularly difficult. “Were you a driving instructor up there?”

“Yes,” he enthused. “It’s my vocation in life.”

“Teaching is like that, isn’t it? Frank; that’s my husband; he’s a teacher,” she informed him. “He’s at the local grammar school.”

“And what about you, Dorothy? Do you teach?” he asked.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed with delight he should assume that. “I’m just a housewife.”

Chris didn’t like the way she said that, as if she meant nothing; so he risked reaching out to place a light touch on her hand. “I assure you that you are not ‘just’ anything.”

There was a moment of silence between them as she looked down at his long slender fingers as they rested on hers. “That is very kind of you to say,” she commented in the direction of the carpet.

“It isn’t kindness that made me say it. I truly believe you are…” Chris bit his tongue as the inappropriate compliment was held in.

Dorothy lifted her head to gaze into his eyes, stealing his heart for all eternity as she did so. “What do you believe?”

He anxiously licked his lips. “I… I think it is time I left your company and returned to work. I have tarried too long as it is.”

“You do?” Dorothy wondered as instant regret set in that he was leaving. Her life was so lonely most of the time. “I suppose I’d better make my way to the playschool to pick Alex up.”

“Alex?” he queried.

“My little girl,” she stated proudly.

“Do you need a lift there?” he offered before sense told him he should not have done.

“Oh I couldn’t,” she instantly declined.

“It would be no bother,” he insisted, “as I’m in plenty of time for my next lesson.”

Could she accept his offer? All he was dangling before her was friendship, after all; not a torrid affair. “I’m not sure,” she quietly admitted.

His face fell in disappointment. “That’s okay, I understand,” he stammered out. “I’m nothing more than a stranger to you. In that case I’ll take my leave and let you get back to meeting your daughter.” He leaned forward on his seat to get up, but Dorothy stopped him midway.

Guilt raged through her. How could she have wounded him so when he was being nothing except polite and friendly? “I’m so sorry, Chris,” she gently consoled him with a brief touch to his arm. “I don’t have any men friends. I don’t have many female friends come to that; and I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I’d like you to consider me as your friend,” Chris blurted out. “It would be lovely to have someone who isn’t a pupil I could talk to once in a while.”

They shared a relieved smile that they had found some common ground to set up some boundaries they could be comfortable with.

“In that case, I’d love to accept your offer of a lift up to the playschool if I’m not putting you out,” Dorothy told him, and gained a beaming smile.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “In fact it would be my pleasure.”

Feeling much better about this budding relationship, they left the house together.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey up to Little Angels Playschool had gone reasonably well, and they had talked for what felt like a good ten minutes before it began to feel awkward with them sitting there as the other mothers stood chatting and glancing in their direction.

“They’ll think something dodgy is going on,” Dorothy commented with some embarrassment.

“Of course they won’t,” he had instantly sought to console her. “People who have affairs would not sit outside a school in the open like this.”

An affair? Dorothy noted that he had seemed to have already thought this situation through. Her position as the wife of a local schoolteacher was her moral compass, her only reason to be seen in public when she wasn’t trying to be a perfect mother. It was a position she was in danger of losing if she continued to sit next to him in his car. “I ought to go,” she announced.

To halt her exit out of his car, and therefore out of his life, Chris hesitantly burst out with, “Going home… may I give you both a lift home?”

Her hand rested on the door handle, and she turned to regard his expectant expression. In that moment he was like an eager puppy longing to be allowed a treat. “I don’t think I should.”

His eyes instantly dropped. “Okay.”

Oh heck! This was painful to reject his good intentions so. “It wouldn’t be polite to delay you any longer then I have,” she tried to explain her decision. “I’ve already taken up far too much of your time.”

“I assure you that I have enough time to drop you off home before I return to work, otherwise I would not have offered,” he began to attempt to persuade her to stay with him. “I was not intending to stay any longer than that.”

A delightful blush appeared on her cheeks as she contemplated this, and Chris found himself absolutely captivated by her. This addiction had to stop, he told himself. Once she was back home with her little girl, then he could drive away and never think of her again.

Dorothy knew she might be breaking some unwritten code, and certain tongues would soon be wagging about her if she wasn’t careful; so she took a deep breath. “Thank you, but no,” she said decisively. Politeness meant that she had to refuse such a generous offer whilst retaining a respectful distance. “But please feel free to come round and see us any time Frank is home.”

“Oh yes, yes of course,” Chris stuttered out. “I’ll erm… I’ll see you another time then,” he continued, hoping that he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. 

“Bye then,” she tried to say breezily, and stepped out the car. Giving him one last fleeting look, she headed to where the other mothers had congregated; her head full of the last hour or so. 

One of the mothers peered at the learner car as it drove away. “Is that your brother?” she asked out of curiosity. “He’s not what I expected.”

Dorothy felt herself blush, much to her annoyance. “No, that isn’t Philip. You wouldn’t catch him venturing out in a car when he could be finishing his latest piece.”

“Piece? What does he do then?” another mother queried.

What a bit of luck, Dorothy thought, as she explained what Philip spent his days doing. Rather this then them asking her about an attractive man giving her lifts to the playschool. It also meant that she could distract herself away from thoughts about Chris and what he must think of her now for having shot down his friendly advances. Sometimes she thought she gave up rather too much for Frank in her life; especially when it had seemed like such a wonderful friendship. Mentally sighing, she continued extolling her brother’s talent and her lack of… well… anything really. Her whole life revolved around making sure Frank, Philip and Alex were okay; there wasn’t much time left for her anymore, and it didn’t look as though there would be in the near future either. 

For a brief moment she allowed her sad eyes to glance towards the direction where Chris had driven off. Perhaps if she wished really hard he would forgive her and maybe, one day, he would offer his friendship again. 

For his part, Chris was mentally berating himself for not taking into consideration that the woman of his dreams might have been already taken; and not only that, but she had a child to consider too. He had been right about her being absolutely kind, caring and lovely. Why was he such an idiot? Why had he almost propositioned her like that? No wonder she had run scared from his car. Any decent woman would have done. 

Slamming the steering wheel in frustration, he slowed the car down to a stop, and decided to do the thing that always calmed him in any situation; he sunk his head in prayer. Silently he begged for guidance, strength and forgiveness whilst vowing to follow God’s will.

As expected, calmness overtook him, and he felt much better. It would be sorted out, and he directed his thoughts onto his next lesson. Starting up the engine again, he pulled away and drove onwards towards whatever God had planned for him. 

 

Thoughts of Dorothy did not, however, elude him after that day of introduction. Every single time he caught sight of a flash of ginger hair or a curvaceous figure his mind went instantly to wondering what Dorothy was doing. To make matters worse, he had started to think of her as his just as much as he had before; as his Doe. That would be his pet name for her, he realised he had decided after he had caught sight of yet another possible woman masquerading as Dorothy before finding out it was an optical illusion. 

A glance towards the clock on the dashboard told him it was twenty passed ten, and this was a Thursday morning. Should he risk it and head towards Dorset Road library? A pang in his heart told him it was. If she told him out and out to leave her alone then he would, but for now he only wanted to offer friendship as he gained another chance to see her in the flesh. He might find out he had totally gone off her if she didn’t match up to the fantasy in his head. Part of him hoped that would be the case; then he wouldn’t feel like such a berk for seeking her out like this. 

After having double checked he had his library card on him, Chris warily entered the confines of the library. It was like any other library he had been in, with its rows upon rows of books, a large desk where a librarian sat looking efficient, and the usual smattering of pensioners, shift workers and full time mothers. 

He stood hesitantly wondering which book section he should investigate first. What were her book tastes? Was she the sort to stick to factual books? Perhaps she preferred travel books, science fiction novels, comedy collections or historical romance? One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t know until he marched up and down for a while to see where she might have ended up.

As luck would have it, he found her standing within the third aisle he looked. It was biographies. He hadn’t thought that would have been her book of choice. 

She was just putting back a book, after flicking through a few pages, when she spotted him at the end of the aisle; and instantly smiled in his direction. “Hello,” she softly greeted him. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.” 

Chris immediately strode to stand by her side, and averted looking directly at her by peering at the title she had just replaced. “Hello. I happened to pop in here and saw you,” he tried to nonchalantly declare in hushed tones. “You changed your mind about Princess Diana then?”

“Yes,” she drawled. “Another fairy tale marriage ended because it was all a lie.”

“Another?” he queried; quirking an eyebrow. 

Ignoring the question, she instead asked, “What sort of book are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I thought I’d come in and see what took my fancy. What about you?”

“Normally I would be looking at the romances, but I’ve read all the ones they’ve got on offer,” she confessed, blushing. “I mean, by the authors I know.”

“Perhaps it’s time to try something different,” he suggested.

“Oh yes?” She shot him a puzzled look. “What would you recommend?”

“Oh, I don’t read that sort of thing,” he tried to backtrack, causing her to giggle at his plight.

The librarian happened to walk passed the end of their aisle at that moment and frowned at them before walking on.

“I think we’d better go somewhere else and talk,” Dorothy proposed; and realised how wrong that might sound to him. “Not that I was trying to…”

He adored the way a crimson flush crept across her skin. “I think we should,” he quickly agreed. “Or we might be evicted from here if we’re not careful.”

Feeling like two naughty schoolchildren, they quietly walked out of the library, and burst in laughter as soon as they left the entrance doors.

“It’s a shame they don’t have a tea room here,” he remarked.

“You could always, if you like, come back to my house for tea,” she hesitantly suggested. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be lovely, thank you. The car is parked just over there.”

They drove along exchanging mundane pleasantries. He was alright; she was alright; Alex was fine; Frank was okay. Nothing of deeper worth was shared; but they both felt the rising anticipation and excitement at this meeting. They’d been offered a second chance to continue their relationship, both hoping for friendship and both secretly yearning for more. 

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Dorothy instantly offered as soon as they walked in through the door. “You go and sit yourself down in the living room.”

“Okay,” Chris replied, and sauntered into her lounge for the second time in his life. 

There was a loud crash from upstairs as she reappeared with two cups of tea. “What the hell was that?” he fearfully asked; expecting her husband Frank to come storming in and attack him for making advances towards his wife.

“Don’t worry,” she said, pressing a soothing hand onto his arm. My, he was a jumpy bloke. Whatever had spooked him so? “That’s just my brother, Philip. He’s upstairs doing something creative.”

“Your brother?” Chris weakly repeated, both in relief and annoyance that they were not totally alone. “Does he come here a lot?”

“Silly! He lives here with us,” she explained. “Has done so since Dad died.”

“Oh!” He felt a bit stupid now; it was becoming a frequent occurrence in her presence. “Doesn’t your husband mind?”

“No,” she said in emphasis. “It was his suggestion in the first place.” The sound of a door slamming nearby made her add, “That’ll be him now, coming in from the back garden.”

“Dorothy? Are you home?” a male voice called out.

Chris was absolutely horrified. How on earth had he got himself in this situation; and more importantly, how would he get out of it?

“I’m in here!” she called back, trying not to notice the scared expression on Chris’s face. She so wanted to comfort him in that moment. “We’ve got company!”

“Have we?” Frank wondered as he entered the living room, wiping his freshly washed hands on a towel. “Hello,” he said to Chris with a nod when he saw him sitting in one of their armchairs.

“H..h..hello,” Chris stuttered in return.

“This is my friend Chris McKenzie, Frank. He’s a driving instructor. I told him that you work in the local school and you’re on holiday for half term,” she introduced them.

“I’m actually really called Chris McKenzie Hardy,” Chris supplied as he shook Frank’s outstretched hand, “but I tend not to use the Hardy part.”

“Why is that?” Frank naturally asked.

“My erm… my brother is in the Metropolitan Police Force, so it’s safer for him if I don’t; seeing as I have to give out my number to complete strangers,” Chris explained.

“Ah,” Frank acknowledged. “Teachers have a similar problem with privacy.” He then turned to Dorothy to demand, “I’ll have a sandwich with my tea. I’m starving. And do one for Chris here.”

“There’s no need…,” Chris began to insist.

But Frank cut him off. “Of course it would be a whole different matter if we lived in the Eastern Block. There, privacy is upheld as a right. And there are none of these problems with unemployment we get here. Everyone is treated fairly and equally with dignity.”

“Are they?” Chris politely responded, not expecting this lecture rather than the anticipated cross-examination about his intentions. 

Frank continued for some minutes about Communism and how wonderful it was in East Germany; right until Dorothy returned with tea and sandwiches. She smiled apologetically at Chris as she handed him a tea plate in order to help himself to something to eat.

It was only as he tucked in to the food that Frank thought to ask, “How did you come to be friends with Dorothy? She’s not mentioned you before.”

“Well I know Gloria,” Chris blustered, “and she goes to the library…”

“And I am thinking of having advanced driving lessons,” she finished his sentence.

“Advanced lessons? Why?” Frank wanted to know.

She shrugged. “Oh, you know. Because I don’t drive very often these days, and the car insurance is cheaper if you pass the advanced driving test.”

“Typical capitalist ideals,” Frank sneered. “Did you know…?” And he was off onto another pet subject.

Chris couldn’t help noticing how little Frank referred to Doe, how self-centred he was, and how much he took her for granted. Anger seethed in him; especially when she seemed upset with what Frank was saying. If Doe were his wife he’d treat her like a queen each and every day. 

After making sure he had given it enough time between eating and leaving, Chris politely pointed out that he had to leave their company. 

“Dorothy will see you out,” Frank said after his goodbyes; leaving Chris in no doubt as to how he viewed his wife.

It was fairly clear that Frank only saw Dorothy as some sort of servant. Not one word or gesture made towards her had spoken of love; whereas she had been very caring towards her husband. Yet again, Chris felt anger and betrayal on her behalf. This man did not deserve such a woman in his life! 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Chris as she showed him to the door. “Frank does rather tend to go on and on about his political views.”

“Do you agree with them?” Chris couldn’t help asking.

“Well... My father did,” she answered. “I suppose in a way Frank is a lot like him.”

“And what about Philip? Is he like that too?”

“Oh no! Philip is nothing like that. In fact he is very timid and gentle,” Dorothy answered. “You’d like him.”

“I think I would,” Chris agreed. He then took out his business card from an inner pocket of his jacket. “Look, here’s my phone number, should you need me. If you ever seriously consider those advanced lessons or, if you prefer, just to talk to me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You want to talk to me?”

“Very much so,” he assured her. “Call me any time you need a friend.”

She glanced back towards the living room door before whispering, “Thank you. I might do that.”

A pleased smile spread across his face. “Goodbye, until we meet again.”

“Bye,” she replied. “Come any time you fancy popping in for a cup of tea.”

“I might hold you to that,” he allowed himself to cheekily reply, and walked down her path back to his car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this was written especially for [dreamerbee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee) to reward/encourage her - I've also nabbed a few item of her artwork.  
>  **A/N2:** those of you who have watched both of these will have noticed that I’ve messed with the timing a great deal. But then it is an AU pairing.  
>  **A/N3:** sorry for the long wait with this update, but inspiration finally arrived so that I could finish this little tale.

**Prompt:**

  
  
  
  
by [alexdystopia](alexdystopia.tumblr.com)  


They often caught sight of each other after that as Chris got his pupils to drive around the streets. With a friendly wave, they would go on their way; or if he had the time, he would stop and have a chat. On the rare occasion, he was completely free, so he would accompany her somewhere so that he could share some private time with her; his Doe. Those were red letter days, and he would carefully file each one away into his happy memories. It was the only thing he was allowed, after all.

On one such day, he dropped her off back home, and noticed the twitching of the curtains within. “Dorothy, I think we’ve been seen,” he warned.

She had merely smiled that glowing smile that she seemed to save just for him. “Don’t worry; it’s only Philip. He won’t squeal on us seeing each other. He knows.”

“What does he know?” Chris cautiously asked, hoping in some respects that she would reveal a deeper relationship than the one they owned up to.

“Oh, you know,” she answered brightly. “That we are good friends.”

“And you’re okay with that?” he wondered with a certain edge to his voice; one she had to ignore.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “It’s not as though we are doing anything wrong, is it?”

“No, nothing wrong,” he had to agree, but something within him wondered if that were true.

 

It wouldn’t be too long before Chris heard from Dorothy again. In fact it was right at the end of half term week. And when he did, she was crying.

“Dorothy?! What’s happened? Is it Alex?” he immediately cried out down the phone.

“No Chris,” Dorothy sobbed. “It’s…” 

He heard her obviously disintegrate on the other end of the line. “I’m coming round,” he stated decisively.

“No, you don’t have to,” she started to say, but he had already hung up and was on his way. ‘He’s on his way,’ she repeated to herself as relief flooded her system and she rushed to splash cold water on her face.

It wasn't long before a worried Chris had arrived on her doorstep.

“It’s Frank. He went for an interview yesterday, for a new school, and he got it. They offered him the job,” she explained. 

Chris tried to give a little shrug of nonchalance. “That’s good, isn’t it?” he asked whilst screaming in his head that it wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all if it took her away from him!

“No!” she sobbed, shaking her head as tears began to fall unbidden down her cheeks. “The job is in East Germany. He wants us all to move there.”

Every breath in his body gasped out, and suddenly Chris was finding it hard to breathe. The very life was draining out of him. Frantically he searched in his pocket and pulled out his inhaler, sucking in the prescription with abandon as he fought to quell his fears. 

She was going away from him. 

He might never see her again. 

As one pain in his chest eased another bloomed as his heart broke. 

“Chris!” Dorothy screamed out in fear as he sunk into a chair. “Please be okay, oh please!”

In seconds her tender hands were on him, touches to reassure, to caress his face, to confirm her love. Thankfully it seemed to calm him, because his breathing sounded better and some colour returned to his cheeks. But nevertheless she continued to smooth her hands over him, not able to resist anymore.

And then those beautiful soulful eyes of his opened up and gazed at her, with such adoration that it took her breath away.

“How are you feeling now? Better?” she softly asked as she hovered over him, her face only inches away from his.

The temptation was too much for Chris, so he reached out to cradle her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft freckled skin. “I am now,” he managed to wheeze out.

They continued to look deeply into each other’s eyes, unable to break the lock that love had placed upon them. Without conscious thought for the action, they drew nearer and nearer, until finally their eyelids fluttered shut and their lips met.

No words were needed as tiny kisses were shared with such loving care, eager to bless the other in tender touches. Love swirled between them and filled their hearts.

It was only when a sound from above in Philip’s bedroom occurred that they broke from each other and realised what they had done. So intense had their yearnings been, fulfilled in that moment, they had completely forgotten the barriers of the real world.

“Oh!” Dorothy gasped out in horror. What had she done?! It wasn’t acceptable to fall in love with a man other than her husband. Only floozies did that sort of thing, not the wives of upstanding schoolteachers who had to set a moral example.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Chris stammered. He had crossed a line that existed for very serious reasons. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“This isn’t allowed. I’m married, Chris, we can’t do this,” she tearfully stated.

“I know.” Crestfallen, he forced himself to get up and walk away from her. “Sorry again, Dorothy. That was unforgivable of me to lose control like that, so I’d better go.”

When she nodded her agreement, he took one last risk and reached out for her hand, possessively holding it for a few precious seconds. This would be the last time they could intimately talk together now. He had ruined everything. 

“Goodbye, Chris,” she faintly murmured.

Her threatening heart broke further when he placed a loving, reverential kiss upon her hand. “Goodbye, Doe,” he uttered, leaving his eyes to say how much he loved her. “May God bless you.”

They broke apart then, both physically as he walked away without daring to look back at her until he was safely in his car; and spiritually as both knew they had lost the most precious thing they had ever known.

Sinking into prayer didn’t offer any solace for Chris. He felt unclean, wrong, and totally in love.

After that, they merely waved at each other from a distance if they saw one another in the street, not daring to get nearer; because they both knew that would not be the end of their betrayal. So much had been implied in their kisses; too much for any God fearing man or woman.

Inevitably their final day of parting arrived, and Chris stood hidden on the corner of the street, watching the Ratcliffe family car leave for the final time; leaving heavy boot prints over his heart. He’d only had a brief glimpse of Dorothy’s face as they drove away. One sad short-lived image, and he could feel his heart breaking yet again as he saw his emotions mirrored in her features.

It was not to be; it cannot be, he kept telling himself. It was the only thing that had stopped him from jumping out from his hiding place into the path of Frank’s car in order to stop her going. It didn’t matter that he wanted to proclaim her as his own. She was another man’s wife, and she could only be his in his dreams. 

If he had known that Dorothy had fantasised about him doing just that, he might have thrown himself into the path of the car after all.

  
  
  
by [dreamerbee](dreamerbee.tumblr.com)  


Life post-Dorothy was a blur of misery for Chris. He still prayed, and the people in his church did their best to both cheer him up and distract him, but his heart was still raw from being broken. All he did was mooch about, going through the motions but not really living life. It just wasn’t the same without Doe. Everybody had commented that he had lost some of his zest for teaching, so he forced himself to appear happier, throwing himself into the smallest task, no matter what it was. But nothing seemed to heal his broken soul, not even praying for guidance during each and every opportunity in his day.

So he hadn’t expected to ever feel more than a sparkle of happiness again, as everything reminded him of her, let alone receive a Christmas miracle. 

Standing idly in the queue at the supermarket checkout, wondering should he reward himself with a chocolate treat or not, he was suddenly forced out of his musings by someone bumping into him. “Sorry,” he automatically apologised as the person involved did exactly the same.

And then their eyes met.

“Chris!” she near squealed.

“Doe… I mean, Dorothy?” he queried. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Germany.”

She anxiously cast her gaze around the store. “Can we go and talk somewhere more private? I’ll wait for you outside.” She then pointed to the main exit, to demonstrate where she would exactly be.

“Okay,” he softly agreed in bemusement, all other thoughts wiped from his mind.

“Do you still want to pay for this?” the checkout cashier asked him, bringing him back into the room with a bump.

“Yes, oh yes,” he quickly confirmed, and handed his basket over.

She seemed to sense his urgent need to get out fast, so she rang through his items in record time before asking for the total. “You can go and talk to your girlfriend now,” she pleasantly pointed out when she’d finished taking his payment. “Good luck!” 

Stating his grateful thanks, he raced outside with his bag of groceries, not caring whether he had collected everything or not. All he wanted to do was see Dorothy. 

 

She was smiling broadly by the time he reached her side. “It was Philip who made me think about this,” she eagerly informed him. “You remember my brother Philip? Well, he pointed out that whenever I got excited about anything it always had something to do with... You.”

“Me?!”

She mutely nodded. “He even tried to ask who you were in front of Frank, hoping he’d take the hint.”

The breath in Chris's body stuttered, “And did he?” Every ounce within him yearned for what this was suggesting.

“No,” she calmly stated. “All Frank did was tell Philip that you were some driving instructor friend I had made one day on the way to the playschool. That you reminded him of some of his pupils, and then he went on about the dedication of his new German pupils, like he does. He never mentioned...” She suddenly stopped speaking and her eyes welled up with tears.

“What did he never mention?” he softly asked, pleased with himself that he was able to risk the question.

“He never...” She drew in a deep breath to clear some of her tears. “...Mentioned how much I missed you, how much I cried when I thought of you, or how much I wanted to come back to see you. He didn’t because he never cared enough to look at me or to find out what I wanted.”

“Oh Doe,” he crooned as he wrapped her up within his arms. “I have missed you so much.” He silently added: I love you so much it hurts every time to let go of you. But he couldn’t stop the love that welled up in him, and he was soon pressing tender kisses to her temple whilst murmuring sounds of unspoken love.

She clung to him, drowning in a sea of comforting adoration. How long had she yearned for this, needed this from anybody, but particularly him. He had to know, so she forced the words out. “I’ve left Frank.”

Chris immediately stiffened in shock. “Do you mean just for a few days?”

“No, I mean permanently,” she confirmed to his soaring heart.

He gulped. “What about Alex? Where is she?”

“In school,” she supplied, much to his relief. “I would never have left her behind.”

“That’s good,” he lamely commented. “So erm...”

“I came back to find you,” she informed him, amused by the shocked expression that was still on his face. “I’ve hardly been back five seconds and I’ve bumped straight into you. Would you say that God is sending us a very clear message?”

“Very clear,” he agreed, clasping her more firmly to him. “More like a miracle. Marry me. Please Doe, at the first opportunity, please marry me!”

Lifting her hands to cradle his face, she sincerely told him, “I wouldn’t want to do anything else. I love you, Christopher McKenzie Hardy.”

And there in the street outside Fine Fare, Chris was finally able to publicly declare, “I love you, Dorothy, with all my heart.”

It was inevitable that they kissed each other then, glorifying in their newfound ability to do so. And if their passion was broken by two elderly ladies clapping with glee at their small exhibition, that wasn't so bad after all. Not when you can celebrate being with the person you love.


End file.
